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Tuesday, April 1, 2014

The grace of solitude


The lights are out and you’re not home
I write my poem all alone
Writing with my heart in the dark.

It’s written on the walls, written on my skin
Written in the silence in between
Drumming in my ears full of tears.

It’s everywhere I look to see
The bloom of the magnolia tree
Finding grace as I take some space.

The light is on, you’re still not home
But I no longer feel alone
Turning on the magnitude of solitude.


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